Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll
by Astale5
Summary: Once upon a time a king and queen made a deal with Drosselmeyer. Now Ahiru is left to deal with the consequences of her parents deal. Fakir most now save Ahiru from a life of being Drosselmeyer's Doll.  Rated T for minor implications,language, violence.
1. Prolouge: Der Vertrag

Astale: Astale here

Fakir: Good, you're finally writing, the last one you wrote was the two-shot

Astale: Hey, I was nice to in that fic *smiles*, Well I'm not as nice to you and Ahiru in this one

Fakir: Wait, *gets worried* wouldn't do you mean?

Astale: Astale5 doesn't own Princess Tutu, or any characters you recognize. She does own the plot though

Fakir: Astale, Wait, what do -

By the way I want to thank the lovely **SasuSakuisforalways** for being my beta-reader.

Fakir slept, dreaming. Many people said dreams were an escape from reality, yet his dreams were his reality. His dreams spoke of everything he wanted and more, his hope for Ahiru to became human once more and for her to become his. Sometimes he believed and hoped that Ahiru was not truly a duck, but a human under a curse. Often Ahiru's human form would dance in and out of dreams, during which he found it increasingly harder to resist her. It was almost easier to wake up and see her as a duck, knowing she would never be his.

However, for the past couple of nights Fakir had been having the same dream. It started in clockwork world, which he assumed was Drosselmeyer's. Looking around him, he saw how it exactly matched Ahiru's description of her brief stay in Drosselmeyer's world. He heard a scream which matched Ahiru's voice perfectly. Fakir rushed towards it, only to be stopped by a group of puppets jeering at him.

"Why, knight, do you rush to the aid of the princess?" One of the puppets asked.

"Yes, why do you? She will never be your princess," another puppet continued. "Yes, she will never be yours… Why would she choose you, a worthless knight, when she could have a prince?'

At this moment a cog rolled in, showing Mytho and Tutu and dancing happily. Fakir looked closer and saw that it wasn't Tutu, but Ahiru. The scene changed, showing Mytho leaning in to kiss her and continued where Mytho had his lips upon Ahiru's. Both parties had their eyes closed in pure bliss. Fakir gritted his teeth as he watched Mytho hands travel down to Ahiru's jacket buttons and start to fiddle with them.

The scene changed again to a church, doors opened revealing newlyweds, and Fakir realized that the two were Mytho and Ahiru. He noted how both of them seemed to glow with happiness. The scene changed again, and he saw a much older Ahiru Mytho and a young child with Mytho's white hair and Ahiru's cerulean blue eyes, clearly their son.

"Stop it," he would groan out, clearly tortured by what he saw.

"Do not forget," the first puppet said, "she just turned out to be a small duck and the prince chose the raven princess instead."

"Oh, that's right," the second puppet continued, speaking almost in a conversational tone. "Perhaps it is fitting for the worthless knight to have a worthless duck for a princess"

"Shut up," Fakir said. "I don't care what you say about me, but don't say that about her; she has done more for Mytho than he would ever do for her."

"Right, you're not even a knight anymore; you're a writer now," third puppet broke in.

"Yes, a writer," the rest of the puppets chorused.

"Come on, writer. Aren't you going to do something for your lovely duck?" A fourth puppet asked.

"Yes, don't you love her?" A fifth puppet inquired.

At that time another gear rolled in. This showed him his part in Ahiru's life when she was still human. The gear's sconces flashed through his first meeting with her to his pas de deux with her in the Lake of Despair.

"Yes, don't you want her to be human so you can make her yours?" The fifth puppet asked him.

The gear changed again, showing him his dreams. He saw how he hoped his fist kiss with Ahiru would saw how he was more dominant in the kiss but that Ahiru didn't mind. He also saw, after he had finally claimed her, how the boys of Kinkan's Academy directed jealous stares at him. After seeing this part of his dream many nights, his favorite part remained watching through the gear as Ahiru agreed to marry him.

"But her true form is duck," Fakir argued," and I promised her that I would protect her true form."

"But what is she? Not a duck but a human." a sixth puppet said to him.

"What?" he said as the floor disappeared beneath him. Fakir fell down to another floor made of gears.

There he saw Ahiru with her back to him, starting into a three pronged mirror. On the left prong, he would saw Princess Tutu, on the right he saw Ahiru's duck form, the yellow duck that still had her eyes. In the middle, he saw Ahiru's human form, yet it wasn't the girl he remembered. The figure in the mirror had slightly darker hair, her form appeared more womanly, and small circlet of gold topped her head, marking her princess. Ahiru reached out to the reflection in the middle, and Fakir would saw a nearly invisible thread tied around her wrist, almost as if she was a puppet.

At that moment, almost if she sensed his presence, Ahiru turned and looked Fakir in the eye with her cerulean blue eyes, filled with unshed tears, and ask him "who am I?"

Fakir reached for her, and she became limp. More threads became apparent, dragging off like a puppet, and he would yell. "AHIRU!"

He heard Drosselmeyer's laughter and his voice saying, "now, what are you going to do, my descendant? You have been far too responsible with your stories for them to actually work against me." At that moment he woke up.

Fakir awoke, panting hard. He had dreamt that same dream before, yet it more like a warning tonight. Also, for seem reason, he felt as if Ahiru had apologized and said goodbye to him. Looking frantic, he went to check Ahiru's basket to make sure she was safe. However, when he looked there, he saw that she was gone. Feeling even more frantic, he slipped into his normal clothes, grabbed his sword, and rushed outside. Looking up at the sky, he saw the dawn breaking and a mist rolling in.

Fakir looked all over for her, not finding her anywhere. He cursed. _How far could one small duck get_, he thought. At that moment, Fakir heard familiar music, and he went to investigate, finding himself at the edge of the Lake of Despair. There he saw a figure dancing upon the lake; he immediately recognized it as Ahiru. Yet Ahiru was different from the Ahiru of his memories. In fact, she looked more like the woman in his dreams, the one who stood in the middle panel of the mirror Ahiru stared into.

"Ahiru," he was about to yell when a darker figure appeared. As the figure stepped into the light, he saw it was Drosselmeyer.

"My little duck, or say princess, what are you doing here?", Drosselmeyer asked. _Wait, is Ahiru a princess and also truly a duck?_ Fakir thought as he watched the scene.

"You should know, Drosselmeyer; you were the one who formed the contract with my parents," Ahiru, or rightly, Odette answered.

"Ah, yes that contract," Drosselmeyer smiled. "What was it about? I have forgotten."

"The contract was this: you would save the life of the crown prince," here her voice started to choke, "but in payment, you would take the youngest princess and turn her into a duck for 16 years of her life. Then, on her 16th birthday, the princess would give up her heart and freedom in order to become your doll."

"Ah Yes! That was what it was," Drosselmeyer said. "So, are you ready?"

"Yes," tears fell from her eyes." Give me the knife. "

Fakir saw a knife that looked very much like the raven daggers which had attacked him during the fight with Kraehe for Mytho. It then suddenly clicked what Ahiru was about to do. "NO, AHIRU, DON'T!"

Both Ahiru and Drosselmeyer turned to look at Fakir. Fakir saw that Ahiru was wearing a white gown with swans embroidered on the breast. Drosselmeyer was wearing his usual clothing. "I'm sorry Fakir, but this something I have to do."

"No, Ahiru, there has to be some other way." Fakir had reached the bank of the lake where Ahiru was dancing.

"I'm sorry, Fakir, but this wasn't my decision. It was my parents' and they made it a long time ago." Ahiru took a long, deep breath and lifted the knife, ready to plunge it in to her breast.

"Please, Ahiru." His plea was lost on deaf ears, for with a last exhale Ahiru had plunged the dagger into her breast. "NO AHRIU!"

"Perfect," Drosselmeyer smiled maliciously as Ahiru's heart began to float towards him. "Oh, my descendant," Drosselmeyer looked at Fakir. "There is truly no way to save her unless your writing improves, for my new story has no need for a knight." He turned to Ahiru who had fainted from the shock of the wound." Come along."

"Yes Drosselmeyer." Ahiru woke up and started to follow Drosselmeyer.

"Ahiru," Fakir made one last desperate plea.

As Ahiru turned to face him, Fakir took a sharp intake of breath; her eyes were as emotionless as Mytho's had been before Tutu returned his heart shards. "Who are you?" She asked emotionlessly.

Fakir fell to his knees, trying to take all this in. He saw Drosselmeyer and Ahiru leave through the clock portal Drosselmeyer often used but made no move to stop them. It was truly hard for him to take this in; it had to be one of his more elaborate nightmares. However, as he stood up, he knew it was no nightmare; this was truly real. He lost Ahiru to Drosselmeyer again, but, unlike last time, he had no idea how to get her back.

Astale: So yeah, Drosselmeyer complex *scratches back of head in nervousness* If you don't get that, I have bit of Drosselmeyer complex when it comes to writing fan fiction.

Fakir: I'll say

Astale: Oh someone is a little cranky.

Fakir: You think I just lost Ahiru; do tell me if I do find a way to get her back.

Astale: *sticks tongue out* Can't, spolierfic

Fakir: Why you, *takes out sword*

Astale: Well, before Fakir kills me, I would like to say that I would like comments and reviews. Also the name of the story comes from a song by Abney Park; I'll put the link on my profile. Bye *starts running*


	2. Chapter 1: Dienstmädchen von Puppen

Astale: Yay, Madame Drosselmeyer is back.

Fakir: Who?

Astale: Oh, that's who I became when my Drosselmeyer complex takes over.

Fakir: _It's _back *looks scared*

Astale: Yep *similes evilly*

Fakir: Astale, *shakes head*

Astale: Do the disclaimer; I'm truly too in my Drosselmeyer high.

Fakir: Fine, Astale does not own Princess Tutu or any characters you recognize. She does own the plot

Astale: I would like to thank you my wonderful beta-reader **SasuSakuisforalways**

_A small, young red-head ran through the palace courtyards, laughing and shouting gleefully. He often thought that, being the youngest, he would be forgotten, but since he was the only male in his predominately female family, he was his father's heir. Also, since his family was the royalty, he was the crown prince and very important, even though he was only eight. However, very soon he would no longer be the youngest, for his mother, the queen, was excepting another child. _

_He ran after a ball thrown by his elder sisters. He felt very privileged to have his elder siblings playing with him, since they were always so busy. _

_ "Hah , hah," he heard the eldest sister yelled out at the sister who had thrown the ball for him, "That was a pathetic throw, I could have done better." _

_ The sister who had thrown the ball respond, "really, I like to see your try, Odile." _

_ "Thanks, for the vote of confidence, Odette," Odile retorted _

_ Though Odette and Odile were twins, they couldn't be more different. Where Odette was bright and cheerful, Odile was dark and melancholy. At fifteen, both of the twins had grown very attractive and pretty. Odette had taken after their mother and was a fiery red-head with a temper to match, while Odile was more like their father, her long dark tresses mirroring the king's. However both the twins got the deep mournful brown eyes of their father. _

_ "Sisters, please do not fight," his youngest elder sister said. _

_ "Coppelia, it's not going to work," he answered. _

_ "I know, Tristian," Coppelia answered. At eleven it was clear; Coppilea was going to be much plainer then her older sisters yet still very pretty. She was not blessed with the dark tresses or the red curls of her elder's sisters. Instead, she had plain brown locks; however, her eyes were green like her mothers. The eight-year-old Tristan favored his mother looks with his red hair and green eyes. _

_ "By the way, where did the ball go?" Odette asked. _

_ "No clue, you threw it." Odile asked, "why don't you go find it?" _

_ "But it's not __**my**__ ball," Odette answered. "Why do I have to find it?" _

_ "I'll find it." Tristan blurted in, "after all it is my ball." _

_ "That sounds like a very good comprise," Coppeila added._

_ "No-one cares for your opinion, Copa," Odette said._

_ "Odey," Odile blurted in, "that was uncalled for." _

_ Tristan ran in the direction Odette had thrown the ball, hearing his sisters argue as left the brightly lit courtyard and moved into the much darker corridor he had seen the ball roll into. For some reason, as he entered the corridor, his mood soured and he felt slightly scared. Truly, he just wanted to get out off of the corridor with his ball. As he moved around the passage, he seemed to sense a presence following him, but when he turned around to look there was no one there. More than a little spooked, the eight-year old continued looking for his ball. Looking around, he found the said ball under a window ledge; the ball was red and could be easily spotted. He bent to pick up when he felt the presence even closer, and before he could turn around he felt a sharp pain in his back. Then with a small gasp, he fainted. _

Ahiru woke up, head pounding. Looking around she saw, she was in a small bedroom. She was no longer in her white swan dress. Instead she wore a light blue night-dress. This night dress had lace at the collars and cuffs. Other than the lace, the dress had no other adornments. The only other thing on her person was a necklace. This necklace was a locket in the shape of a clock. In fact, one side of the locket was a clock. On the other side a pattern of a quill in the middle of gear was etched into the metal. Ahiru was trying to open the locket when a knock sound on the door.

The door opened and a woman of twenty-seven years entered. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a tight and strict bun, while her maid's uniform was neatly pressed, the skirt barely having any wrinkles. Her green eyes were void of emotion like Ahiru's blue ones which were staring at the woman who had just entered, expecting hers would sometimes flash with a brief emotion.

"I'm Julia", the woman said. "Lord Drosselmeyer has told me I'm to be your maid." Ahiru just looked at her emotionlessly and Julia continued. "Lord Drosselmeyer requests your presence. So I must help you dress."

"Okay," Ahiru responded for the first time since Julia had entered her room.

"Good." Julia went over to a closet Ahiru had not noticed before. Julia opened the closet and chose a simple green gown. "This is very nice. You will wear this one."

"Okay," Ahiru said as Julia removed her nightgown and placed the green gown over her head.

"Come, I must brush your hair before you visit Lord Drosselmeyer." Julia moved Ahiru to a vanity and sat her down as she unraveled Ahiru's messy braid and began to brush it out. After a few minutes of brushing and a few more of braiding and pinning, Julia had Ahiru's hair braid and pulled up behind her head. "Now you look beautiful." she said

"Okay," Ahiru repeated.

"Now you're ready to see Lord Drosselmeyer, Lady Isolde," Julia said, a flash of sadness in flitting through her eyes.

Julia walked over to the door she had entered through, reopened the door, and directed Ahiru in that direction. Ahiru walked out the door. Julia followed her and closed the bedroom door. "This way, mistress", she said, motioning the direction.

Julia began to walk along the corridor she had pointed out; she turned around to see if Ahiru was following her. Ahiru, however, was walking along another corridor. Julia rushed over to stop her "No, not that way," she chided and taking Ahiru's hand and dragging Ahiru behind her towards Drosselmeyer.

Fakir: Wait, what? Drosselmeyer change her clothes! That sadistic ba- *gets hit over the head with a book, rubs back of his head with his hand." What was that for?

Astale: YOU BAKA, Julia did that. I'm not that sadistic.

Fakir: You're still pretty sadistic *gets hit over the head with a book again*

Astale: Say that, again * holds up book dangerously*

Fakir: Ohh, again. That was painful, what did you hit me with?

Astale: Prinz und Rabe (The Prince and the Raven for those who do not know Tutu Lore or German)

Fakir: Oh, the irony.

Astale: Please comment, review, please *puppy eyes*

Fakir: Yes, please do or I will never hear the end of it.

Astale: Well bye.

**Authors Note: I'll being going on vacation tomorrow; I won't be able to get near a computer for the next 5 days. So don't except to see anything from me for a while. **


	3. Chapter 2: Die Pflicht des Schreibers

Astale: Astale, here. Finally, update. Sorry, my faithful readers, a lot happened.

Rue: Really, what?

Astale: One, I went on vacation. Two, I got my wisdom teeth out. Three, school stared and this year I'm taking my first A. (its fun but tons of homework), and four, I lost inspiration until Rebecca, my sister, gave it back to me. By the way, Rue has decided to join me, since I couldn't find Fakir

Rue: Oh, he's hiding from you, can't understand why? Rebecca? You mean the Rebecca that is my friend?

Astale: Exactly, the same Rebecca.

Rue: So Rebecca told me join for this fic, since she had a headache. What's this one even about?

Astale: It is tale of suspense, romance, heartbreak, and tons of tragedy. Whoot, my Drosselmeyer complex is back.

Rue: Okay, now I see why Fakir is hiding from you *gets head over the head with a book*

Astale: Be nice.

Rue: Fine, I'll do the disclaimer. Astale5 does not claim ownership of Fakir, Ahiru, Mytho, I and any other cannon characters of Princess Tutu. She does however own the plot and her original characters

Astale: I also want to say thank you to my amazing beta reader** SasuSakuisforalways**.

The day dawned bright and happy. Birds twitted merrily, their voices caring from tree-top to tree-top. However, all this was lost to Fakir as he sat, banging his head against the kitchen table in Charon's house. It had been two months since Ahiru had taken out her heart. Charon had eventually given up trying to stop Fakir from hurting himself. At this current moment, he had left to buy some groceries.

"It's not your fault," Autor said, watching Fakir slam his head against the table for the umpteenth time that morning. Autor had slipped in as Charon had left. Fakir had not noticed Autor joining him since he was to busy causing himself bodily harm.

"Yes, it is," Fakir repeated as if it was an ultimatum. "I should have protected her better. It was my duty."

"Still, it's not your fault that she had a contract with Drosselmeyer." Autor had managed to get Fakir to tell him the story.

"But, I should have expect that Drosselmeyer would have come for her," Fakir answered, still not realizing it was Autor he was talking to. "It was exactly something he would have done."

"Why?" Autor asked, horrified that his idol would do anything like that.

"He's been after her since the end of the story when she and I defied the fates we were given," Fakir answered

"But that's only right, considering the fact that Drosselmeyer was most famous for his tragedies. Also, the characters, even the insignificant characters like Ahiru, should listen to their author or, especially if that said author is one of Drosselmeyer's blood line," Autor said voicing his opinion on the matter.

"DAMNIT!" Fakir stood up in a rage, knocking aside the teacup he was holding and roughly grabbed Autor, pinning him against the wall by his shirt collar. After hearing that comment, Fakir realized that he was talking to Autor, and his blood started to boil when he heard the note about Ahiru.

"Ahiru is not an insignificant character, and she deserves respect as well as the choice to be able to chose her own fate rather than be controlled by some sadistic bastard who thinks it's a lark to mess with people fates," he murmured with a steel cold in voice and gritted teeth.

"Oh really," Autor sneered. "She was just the role of Princess Tutu, a character who's only mentioned in a few paragraphs. And just what was Tutu's role again? Oh, that's right, since was the princess that was cursed to love the prince and be loved, yet she was never able to confess her love. When she did, she would turn into a speck of light. That sounds pretty insignificant to me, hmmm?"

"She was more then just the princess who was fate to turn into a speck of light; she was a lot more then that," Fakir growled, pushing Autor hard into the wall. "You have no idea exactly how much she sacrificed for My-Prince Siegfried. Don't you ever say she's insignificant!"

"Oh, I see," Autor sneered again. "That's how it is."

"How what is?"

"It's really quite simple," Autor smiled maliciously. "You're in love with Ahiru, and you can't forgive Prince Siegfried for what he did to her."

"DAMNIT, AUTOR, SHUT UP! You have no idea how I feel!" Fakir yelled back blushing. Without meaning to, Autor had hit the nail on the head; Fakir was in love with Ahiru, yet he knew that she was love with Prince Siegfried. It wasn't that Fakir wouldn't forgive Mytho for what he did; he just couldn't seem to see his ex-best friend in the same light he did before Ahiru changed Mytho. It was during this process that Fakir realized he had fallen in love with Ahiru. However, by the time he knew that, he had also realized something else; the girl he fell in love was quite literary living for his best friend.

Autor immediately lost his malicious smile. He had only said that Fakir was in love with Ahiru as a jeer, but it now it seemed that he was right. Autor hadn't expected Fakir to be so visibly shaken. He knew from observing Fakir for years, that the boy was the kind of person who kept mainly to himself, never showing emotions in public. Also he hadn't expected Fakir to fall in love with the duck-like, clumsy girl that was Ahiru. _Perhaps I've should have seen these signs, _Autor mused.

Autor was not to one to give up, when he knew he was ahead; he had reason for coming to visit Fakir today, and he was determined to succeed in his endeavor. "Oh really, then why have you been unable to write anything." He replied malevolently. "It's because you lost your muse. Wait," he stopped to think, still smirking. "I have an idea, why didn't you write about _her_, because it seems to me you could only write about her. I'm sure—"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, AUTOR!" Fakir yelled, and with his free hand, he pinched the bridge of his noise trying to clam himself down. It was clearly to Autor that he had hit a nerve with his comment about _her. _Both boys knew exactly whom Autor was talking about when said her. "You have no idea what you're talk about. " Fakir growled out, "Not only that, I would never do that to her. Especially since it would betray her trust. Shedeserves a life of her choice, not a life that Drosselmeyer, me, or some other sick bastard would force upon he_r_."

"Maybe that's the reason you're so weak, "Autor sneered out.

"What did you say?" Fakir growled, his temper flaring ever higher.

"I said maybe the reason you're so weak is that you are too afraid of your own power to be able do anything with it," Autor clarified.

"How can you say that?" Fakirs reminded himself to try to keep his temper checked.

"Oh, quite easily," Autor retorted. "And maybe, just maybe, that's reason your writing won't improve. That's why you can't rescue Ahiru." His words sounded eerily like Drosselmeyer's had that fateful morning. "How can you hope to rescue her as the knight who can't even die? No, you must become a writer who can surpass even Drosselmeyer in will."

"You know what? I think you're sicker than the sick bastard Drosselmeyer ever was," Fakir said disgusted.

"Thank you," Autor said. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Those last few words were what set Fakir off. Violently, he pulled Autor up to his face and hissed "get out of my house." With that he released the writer, letting him slide to the floor and stormed off to his room.

Autor was left to scramble up to his feet and run. He was such in hurry to get away from Fakir, he didn't notice that he passed by two very familiar figures as he was running. In all of his time observing Fakir, Autor didn't think he had seen Fakir that angry before. It was almost if you could feel the cold fury radiating from him in waves. Autor never meant to make Fakir angry; he only gave Fakir a little push in the right direction.

Meanwhile, Fakir was up in his room with his head in his hands._ Was Autor right in the saying that the reason he was weak was because he was afraid of his power? Perhaps Autor was right. Maybe he should start writing about her, maybe he would get stronger._ He shook his head to clear those thoughts. _He wasn't scared of his power; he was just… just… responsible. Yeah that it. Responsible_. The excuse even sound feeble in his own head. What Autor said had cut him deep. _Yes_, he realized. _Maybe he was afraid of his power, but he had reason to fear it. The last he wrote without thinking of the consequences, he nearly drowned her. Drosselmeyer was controlling him but still… Drosselmeyer wouldn't have been able to do that if he and Drosselmeyer didn't the same blood and power and. That time… Yes, the time when he wrote a story causing his parents deaths. So, yes, Autor was right; he was afraid of his power._

Fakir shook his head again at the thought of writing about _her_ again. _What scared him most was that when Autor had suggested writing about her, it was so tempting. Fakir was willing to throw away everything, even her trust in him, just for the slim chance that he might find her. He knew he couldn't just so do that to her, not when her whole life had been spent as a puppet dance for a sick, sadistic puppet master. _

Fakir heard a knock on the door. He went down the stairs deciding that if was Autor, he would just send him away again. Reaching the door he pulled it, surprised to find that it wasn't Autor or Charon. The woman the doorway had shoulder-length, gently curled raven hair with, and a small golden crown rested on her brow. Her blood-red eyes were thoughtful and showed sadness. The man in the doorway had hazel eyes that were also thoughtful and worn. He had neck length white hair with twinges of same grey. On his brow, like the woman, rested a golden crown.

"Where's Ahiru, Fakir?" The woman said in lilting voice.

"Yes, where is Ahiru?" The man asked the same question in a tenor tone

"Rue, Mytho", Fakir sighed having to face the reality of the situation which he had been denying for two months. "I don't know…"

Astale: Thus ends chapter 2

Rue: *reads it* It's good, but I don't understand a few things like what exactly happened to Ahiru.

Astale: Oh don't worry about it. It's explained in the first two chapters

Rue: It is?

Astale: Yep!

Rue: May I borrow a copy of these two chapters you speak of?

Astale: Sure *hands Rue a copy of the first two chapters of "Herr Drosselmeyer Doll."

Astale: Before, I go I would like to mention that the inspiration for Fakir grab of Autor actually comes directly from the anime, as well as someone his lines about Drosselmeyer. Both scenes come out of Episode 25: The Dying Swan.

Rue: *looks up from read* Isn't that one of your favorite episodes?

Astale: Yep *smiles happily* Anyway back to business, the scene with Autor is right after Drosselmeyer comes and the who thing happens with Drossy-

Rue: Drossy?

Astale: My nickname for him, anyway Drossy tries to drown Ahiru, and Fakir stabs himself. Autor then asks what happened since he saw the blood, and Fakir tells him about Drossy's visit, Autor says that's great, and Fakir grabs his shirt collar cuff and the other lines came from when is auguring with Drossy. Such a line is " lark to mess with people fates" This line is very much like the line from the English Dub. So if you find any of those lines, know that they do not belong to me.

Astale: You should also know that I did a lot of Mytho bashing chapter, and there may be a lot in the later chapters to.

Rue: But he's my husband, and good man

Astale: I'm not saying he's not, it's just that I hate him for the way he left Ahiru in the end of PT, I get that he like Rue and all, but still he could have given a gift of gratitude to Tutu/Ahiru. It does even have to be turning her back human -

Rue: That's what you want though

Astale: That's what most Tutu fans want. Anyway, as I was say before but a least something to show what she did for him. But no, he just left her there, pretty much abandon her after he found she was a take.

Rue: Oh I see your point. By the way Fakir, told me to say this. *reads from another piece of paper*" Astale's readers, please review and comment. It seems to make her happy and less like to kill us cannon charcters" *goes back to "Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll" *

Astale: Wait, how can he, never mind, but you heard Rue please review and comment. Thank you.


	4. Damn Flashdrive Author's Note

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: SO THE FLASHDRIVE I USE TO TRANFSER MY SOTIRES JUST BROKE, SO I WON'T BE ABLE TO UPDATE UNTIL I GET A NEW ONE. IN OTHER WORDS DON'T THINK I ABANDON THE STORE. I JUST CANNOT UPDATE, SORRY. **


	5. Chapter 3: Ein Herz Hat Verraten

Astale: Hey guys, guess what?

Rue: *warily * What?

Astale: Ha, ha you guessed what. (My sister used that joke on me.) Anyway, I feel pretty evil tonight. You know what that means.

Rue: Oh no

Astale: Oh yes, time for the next chapter of "Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll" Yay *dances around in circles*

Rue: Oh boy

Astale: Plus last chapter, I had tons off fun bashing Mytho, and Autor. It was really fun

Rue: Only you would find that fun.

Astale: You would be surprised.

Rue: What's that supposed to mean?

Astale: Oh nothing *whistles innocently* Oh look, its time to do disclaimer

Rue: Fine, *sighs* *mutters under her breath* Now, I can see what Fakir means,*says louder* Astale5 doesn't own Princess Tutu or any thing you recognize. She does however own her characters and her plot.

Astale: And as always, I want to thank my awesome beta-reader **SasuSakuisforalways**

_ Tristan lay on his bed in a feverish sleep, calling out for his parents and sisters. The whole royal family was gathered around his bedside. The queen was weeping gently in her handkerchief, her great regal head bowed, her beautiful green eyes filled. The king held his wife, head also bowed, but he was not crying. His eyes remained full of despair. Odelie and Coppelia stat on chairs around Tristan's bed, their pretty eyes filled with tears like their mother's. Odette stood grasping Tristan's tiny hand as he cried out and writhed in pain. _

_ Odette felt incredibly guilty; it was her fault that her beloved little brother was suffering. If she hadn't been such jerk that day, none of this would have happened. If she had been the one to get the ball… if she had been the one to receive the stab wound. If she had been any quicker, if she had been… So many if's played tag within her mind, making her feel worse that she already had already felt horrible about seeing her little brother like this. The thoughts in her mind alonemade her feel guiltier than she already did._

_ Tristan felt the sharp pain in his back as he bent to pick up the ball; a successful assassination attempt, for the young prince was dying. It the seemed the knife that was used was coated with poison. So far, the doctors had been unable to identify the toxin; as such they couldn't come up with antidote for it. However, the doctors identified several characteristics of the venom. One, the venom was, unfortunately, lethal unless given the antidote. Two, it was slow acting. In other words, it would kill slowly and painfully. Three, the main purpose of the venom was torture rather than death. Four, the poison worked by placing the victim in a feverish, coma-like state, and then working up through the victim's nerve system, killing their nerves._

_ To the king and queen, this all sounded repetitive. "Well is my son going to live or die?"The king roared at the head doctor. _

_ "I'm sorry,Majesty; it is unclear at this moment," the head doctor respond, cowering under the rage of the king._

_ "Damnit," the king muttered, placing his hand over his head and sinking into a nearby chair. He looked at his son who lay, writhing in pain. "Dear God, we need a miracle." _

Ahiru sat across the table from Drosselmeyer, Julia standing behind her chair. Drosselmeyer looked thoughtfully as he drummed his fingers together."So, little Ahiru, or should I say Lady Isolde…" No one noticed Julia stiffen at the mention of Lady Isolde. "What should I do with you?"

Ahiru stared blankly at him, void of all emotion. He chuckled darkly. "Well, you wouldn't know, would you?" He chuckled again. "And that, Julia," he said, turning to the maid, "is the advantage of heartless people; they don't ever fight you. Just tell them what to do and they listen. It's like another version of my puppets."

"Yes, Sir," Julia answered.

"Oh that's right Ahiru; you were once one of my puppets weren't you?" Drosselmeyer stood and walked around the table to lift Ahiru's chin. "But then that dammed knight had to go and corrupt you…"

"Corrupt her, Sir?" Julia questioned.

"Oh Yes, corrupt her. You see, little Ahiru was perfectly fine with serving me and following the role of Princess Tutu if it meant helping save her precious little prince." His voice took on a mocking tone. "But then, at the moment of the big finale where little Ahiru should have turned into a speck of light for oh so precious Mytho," he continued,"the dammed, too-cowardly-to-die knight just had to blurt his mind about defying fate." The mocking tone was gone, replaced by a deadly serious voice. "Defying fate… as if. You see, no one can defy their fate for long, especially if their fate is in my hands… Isn't that right, little Ahiru."

Julia was scared; she had never seen her master like this before. Sure, he was a little sadistic and he had his issues, but she had never seen him this serious before. Usually, Drosselmeyer was more joking and laughter, though most of those times were caused by his sadistic pleasures. Even so, she must say she preferred him that way, the joking sadistic old man she knew. This new side of Drosselmeyer was so foreign; it scared her. It almost made Drosselmeyer seem sane, that behind his madness was a more calculating side.

Drosselmeyer continued. "Yes, little Ahiru, I'm not done with you yet. I'll make him pay for what he did, especially for corrupting you. Yes, I'll make I'm pay. Don't worry, little Ahiru; he may have helped escape your role of Tutu, but hehasn't helped you escape your fate. Your fate, your destiny, in fact, your very life is in my hands. It has been ever since they day your parents signed that contract."

Drosselmeyer thought. _It wasn't only Fakir who corrupted her, though he was one of them… He detested thinking that another writer, especially that one…that writer set his mark upon one of my characters… the character whose being was mine! From the day she was born! No, even before that, she belonged to me! From the day she was conceived. Her parents would adamantly deny that, but I knew exactly how it would play out…the assassination attempt on Tristan. I waited so long for the right time to approach them. _

Drosselmeyer laughed._I only chose her for Tutu, since no one else was willing to take the role. But silly little Ahiru didn't know that. I only needed a Tutu... She was never going to completely vanish into a speck of light. No, she was only going to go back to being a duck for two more years until she was really needed. Yes, she was going to be the star of a retiling, one of my tragedies... perhaps the best one! Yes, I had a plan for her…Now, thankfully, she's heartless, her memoires less. _

_Though… it was Edel's fault as well. That cursed, damned puppet who tried to fight against me! Well,I clearly missed her every day; she reminded me of something that I once had, something that I lost and went insane try to find again. I have Uzura right know, but she just doesn't have Edel's usefulness! Not even the same memoires that I gave to Edel. Yes, as I showed Edel…I will show Fakir the price of defying me. _

He snickered, causing Julia to move from where she had been standing. "What, Sir?"

"Oh nothing, _Maid_," he said forcefully, reminding Julia of her position.

_However it was not nothing… _He madly giggled to himself. _Oh I know how to punish Fakir. He thinks no one can see what he hides deep in his heart... But he knew how clearly I saw what he was hiding. It became especially obvious when I briefly took control… How pitiful…_

Suddenly, a part that Drosselmeyer that he had pushed down into the deepest part of his heart resurfaced for a second._Why don't you just leave the poor boy alone? He's had enough tragedy in his life!_

_ But, _Drosselmeyer argued with himself, _he ruined my best tragedy and corrupted my heroine!_

_ So what! I seem to remember a young story-weaver very much like him…_

_ Oh shut up and get out of my head!_

_ As you wish…_

Drosselmeyer sighed in annoyance. _I haven't heard that voice since she—no! Don't think about that now... In any case, he deserves to pay for what he did to my heroine. It is quite a twist that he should have fallen hopelessly in love with her. This will make payback even sweeter.  
><em> Drosselmeyer stood and walked away from Ahiru. "Julia, bring Lady Isolde- " This time he saw how she flinched at the name. He smiled maliciously, "back to her room."

"Yes, master," Julia said. "Come along, Lady. " She helped Ahiru out of the chair and through the door into the hallway.

"Wait, _Maid," _he said,sneering the last word. "She is to stay in her room until I summon for her. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir,"Julia repeated, vowing never to slip (her old habit of calling him master). _Iso-Lady Iso-Ahiru was her new mistress now…_

As the two women left the room, so did Drosselmeyer. He left through a back door, entering a room full of clockwork and gears. He turned to one of the gears, saying "perhaps it is time for me to bring in the next character." He laughed manically.

In the gear was a young red-head man of about twenty-four, riding huge black horse. His garb was that of a prince, fine stiches and material; however, it was jet black. He wore matching armor as well. His sword hung loosely at his side, most of it obscured by his scabbard, but the hilt was hilt was made out of gold and bent into the shapes of two swans whose necks formed a heart. At the place where the swans' beaks met, a jet black onyx jewel was set in the expression on his face was not that of a kind prince like Mytho, but proud, haughty, and arrogant man. He was clearly a person who was accustomed to getting his way. He was also very handsome, and from the way he carried himself, it was clear that he knew it as well.

Astale: Yay, Chapter 4 is down

Rue: *looks at watch* and it's not even midnight

Astale: Yay, I finished before midnight

Rue: Good for you

Astale: Anyway, maybe next chapter I'll introduce a new character.

Rue: Okay *looks confused*

Astale: And maybe, I tell what story Drosselmeyer is tell-err going to put Ahiru in.

Rue: WHAT? *starts strangling Astale* Tell me, Tell me, Tell me, what story is it?

Astale: Rue, you strangling me, can't breathe, can't breathe

Rue: *realizes what she's doing and releases Astale, looks sheepish* Oh sorry

Astale: Its okay, anyway I'm signing off for tonight, so please review it makes me very happy. *walks away*

Rue: Astale *calls after*, Oh well, By the way please review, also Astale wants to let her readers and reviewers know, that if they want they can draw fanart for her story. In fact she encourages it; it makes her happy to see the people are appreciating her story enough to draw fanart for it. Astale, only asks if you do draw fanart, to send her a private message with the link. Thank you, Bye


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